I was just 26 when my dad died, from cancer, 15 years ago today.
He was 53.
We were both too young.
What really bothers me is that I lost my father when I was just old enough to really get to know him.
And I never got to see him as a grandfather.
My mom reminded me today that as she was taking him to the hospital, literally hours before he died, he turned to her and said when he was better he was going to be out on his bike again, riding the hills they were driving.
In his eulogy I spoke about how he would not be mourned by other nations, his life would not be written about in history books, but the legacy he left behind could be seen in his three strong, independent daughters.
We have missed him these last 15 years. There is a piece to our family puzzle that can never be replaced.
But we learned then, as we did again with me, that we are strong women, my mom, my sisters and me.
And no matter how tough a day may get, we will always fight to ride any hill put in our path.
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Dear Dawn,
ReplyDeleteI remember the day very well. I lost a wonderful friend that day. He was a good man. I always admired the strength of your family. Know that Don is always watching over us and he smiles when he looks down and sees his gorgeous grandchildren. You are always in my prayers .. love you - Joyce